I met a friend for coffee today at the Acorn Village in Mistley. Other friends have spoken well of the cafe there, and it's conveniently midway between our two houses. We had a very nice time. Nice, and humbling.
Acorn Village has been going for longer than I've lived in the area. It provides sheltered living for adults with learning disabilities, and part of their ethos is to be part of the local community, not a ghetto. Hence one reason for the cafe, which is used by the residents as well as outside visitors. Indeed, the residents are very much in evidence. I was greeted as I got out of my car by a chatty woman on a tricycle, who quizzed me cheerfully about what I'd been doing today and yesterday as she guided me to the cafe.
The cafe is very nice, small and warm, and incredibly good value. Where else can you get two decent Americanos, a mince pie and a piece of mocha cake for £3.60? After catching up on our news we checked out the shop next door. None of the clothes or china appealed, but in the book section I found an astonishing collection of photographs of Warsaw, with an English language preface but lacking a publication date or ISBN number, which the Systems Administrator and I later decided must be postwar Soviet era propaganda. For a quid.
The volunteers in the shop were as cheerful and chatty as the lady on the tricycle, and were very happy to accept the donation of the SA's old Corby trouser press, which has been gathering dust since the SA quit working in the City. The only time I ever expect to see the SA in a suit again is for weddings and funerals (assuming nobody invites us to a Bar mitzvah, though I'd love to go to one to see what it was like) and the trouser press was surplus to requirements, but it seemed a waste to take it to the dump when it worked perfectly well.
Around the corner from the shop was something called the Creative Craft Centre. We peered in through the door, but seeing a notice requiring visitors to sign in with staff decided it was not for us, and were leaving when we were hailed by a member of staff. Far from warding us off his vulnerable charges he was keen for us to go in and see the crafts for sale and the Emerald Forest.
The Emerald Forest turned out to be the Acorn Village's Christmas grotto, which the residents had been working on since May. Reached down a corridor of white papier mache trees it was a room lined with Christmas trees and papier mache models. There was a castle, a unicorn that managed to be simultaneously bashful and bolshy, a dragon, a throne, a witch, all sorts of assorted small creatures, and a lot of fairy lights. And the models were really good, and I realised that it was ridiculous to assume that because people had learning difficulties they lacked imagination, or didn't have a sense of fantasy or aesthetics. And the amount of sheer hard work that had gone into making it was quite massive.
Another member of staff chatted to us as we left, telling us how long it had taken them to make and encouraging us to come back to their other events. They no longer do a fireworks display on bonfire night, alas, which was something I did go to many years ago, but health and safety put a stop to it. I will certainly be back for coffee, though. It is one of the friendliest, most open places I've been for ages, and I could see why my friends are so keen on it.
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